


Alley Activities

by bazzledasil



Category: Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare
Genre: Blowjobs, M/M, Mercutio is a little shit, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-04 04:13:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18335960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bazzledasil/pseuds/bazzledasil
Summary: Mercutio’s never one to refuse a fight, especially one posed by the King of Cats, but today he’s in the mood for a different kind of swordplay.





	Alley Activities

One second, the street is empty. The next, Mercutio‘s stride is interrupted by a sword at his throat. The cold metal brushes his skin as he comes to a halt. 

“Capulet,” he mutters as a lithe form unfolds itself from the shadow of an alleyway, adorned with a vicious smirk. 

The figure nods, arm bending as he stands behind Mercutio, encircling him in steel and muscle. “Escalus.”

“I never thought you one to end a fight before it began, good king of cats. Would you kill a man before he can so much as draw his sword?”

“Draw, then.” Tybalt loosens his hold, allowing Mercutio to slink from between his arms, hand trailing down Tybalt’s chest, and unsheathe his own sword. His right hand grips the hilt with confident ease while the left caresses the length of the blade, fingers just missing the razor-sharp edge. 

“Too many days have passed since our swords were last acquainted.” Mercutio tilts the sword towards his mouth, tongue flicking over the silvery tip. Tybalt eyes him quizzically. 

“Acquainted swords? Ha! My sword needs nothing but to meet your flesh.” Tybalt lunges towards a mocking laugh, sword swishing through the air. A quick parry sends it glancing away and Mercutio clicks his tongue. 

“Capulet, have you never heard of foreplay? Patience, darling, patience.”

“I am not your darling. I am your death.” Another lunge, another parry, and Mercutio’s eyes gaze at him with a boredom bordering on lust. 

“O king of cats, I’ve seen a fair number of swords, and I doubt yours is big enough to kill me.” Mercutio attacks this time. Their swords clash for a moment, whipping through the summer heat, before metal once again meets neck. The steel is firm against Tybalt’s throbbing Adam’s apple as Mercutio steps forward, pushing him into the alley wall. 

“Take it, Escalus. Kill me while you have the chance.”

Mercutio bites his lip in faux consideration. His eyes burn into Tybalt’s, their thumping chests brushing. Then he runs his empty hand down Tybalt’s side, taking control of his opponent’s sword. He tosses both weapons away without releasing Tybalt from his place against the wall. 

“I would prefer not to. There are so many more amusing activities for a summer afternoon.” He smirks, finger finding a place under Tybalt’s chin. His eyes flick towards Tybalt’s lips, tongue caressing his own. 

“What are you suggesting?”

“Everything I say is open to interpretation. How do you want to interpret it, Capulet?” His tongue clicks on the final t, lips remaining open, more inviting than expected. 

Tybalt stares at them a second before capturing them with his own, pushing the soft flesh into Mercutio’s teeth. He smiles at the bruises the kiss will leave on those mocking lips. A soft moan escapes them. Mercutio pulls back from the kiss and laughs. 

“A fascinating interpretation. Perhaps you could expand upon it?”

Tybalt growls and crashes again into that obnoxious smirk. His touch is rough and angry, but Mercutio takes it in stride, pushing into the kiss with equal force and not a little noise. Tybalt’s tongue thrusts between his lips, brushing at his teeth and retreating. 

“Now the discourse gets interesting,” Mercutio slurs into his lips between whimpers, “I didn’t expect your logic to be quite so penetrative.”

Tybalt pulls back this time, frustration flashing in his eyes. “Do you ever stop talking?”

“Only when my mouth is filled with something more interesting than words.”

Tybalt shoves his tongue down Mercutio’s throat, hands moving down to free his mostly hard cock. As soon as it is uncovered, he snaps his head back and pushes Mercutio to his knees. 

Mercutio chuckles. “I suppose that might be more interesting. I’ll give it a try.” He opens his mouth slowly, teasing, and eases his lips ever closer. He bats his lashes a few times as Tybalt’s patience runs out. He grabs Mercutio’s hair and jerks his head forward, replacing the idiotic words in his mouth. Mercutio sputters for a beat before smiling around Tybalt’s girth. His tongue flicks about as he adjusts, bobbing his head slowly to take more in. 

Tybalt bites his lip to keep from moaning as Mercutio works his mouth. Yet soft whimpers still escape him, as hands join lips in their caressing. Mercutio pulls back, freeing his mouth to trace Tybalt’s veins with his tongue. He looks up to see the effects of his handiwork, the beginnings of a laugh in his chest. 

The moment’s pause is all Tybalt needs to swing them both around, Mercutio’s head between his hips and the wall. 

“And what is the purpose of this segue?”

“To fuck your throat hard enough you don’t talk for a week.”

Mercutio contemplates a moment. “I’ll allow it.”

That’s all Tybalt needs to pull open Mercutio’s mouth and push himself into it. His hips rock harshly, shoving deeper with each thrust. Mercutio begins to suck, the slight pressure enough to make Tybalt cry out. Mercutio mumbles some witty nothing into Tybalt’s flesh, tongue gyrating against him. 

Each movement of his mouth resonates through Tybalt’s body, pleasure erasing his anger until all he can think about is Mercutio’s fingers digging into his hips, his lips tightening, his tongue writhing, his throat contracting. Waves of satisfaction crest faster and faster, becoming an undifferentiated flood, and Tybalt rides his high, seed spewing down Mercutio’s greedy throat. 

As the euphoria begins to fall, Mercutio’s lips release him, the last droplets of white falling on his smirking cheeks. Tybalt leans against the wall, breathing hard, gazing down at the grinning bastard. 

“Like I said, there are so many more amusing activities than murder. Besides, if I kill you, my enjoyment is over, and we wouldn’t want that.”

Mercutio wipes his face and stands, straightening his decadent garments. He pecks Tybalt’s cheek and runs a hand through his hair. 

“See you around, Capulet. I have some more activities to try.” With his final statement, he prances out of the alleyway, leaving Tybalt to roll his eyes at the retreating form.


End file.
